


Tootsie Roll Kiss

by musicprincess1990



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Candy, Confused Molly Hooper, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, Silly Sherlock, Snogging, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 21:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicprincess1990/pseuds/musicprincess1990
Summary: Molly decides to try something new, and Sherlock... helps. Sort of. Pure fluff and no plot!





	Tootsie Roll Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This shameless bit of fluff brought to you by my daily, 5:00pm, on-the-way-out-the-door snack. It's my manager's fault for always buying the damn things.

Molly Hooper was a smart, strong, level-headed, career-driven woman. She could proudly say she was happy with her life, and everything in it. But once in a while, like anybody else, she had bad days that made her feel a bit down. They passed quickly enough, but whenever they came around, she swore she had to find some small thing, a treat of sorts, to chase the blues away. That is, something besides her nightly glass of wine. Something she could take with her to work, if need be.

One day, while chatting online with an American pen pal, she learned about Tootsie Rolls. At first, the thought of the gooey, chewy sweet made her wrinkle her nose. However, her pen pal insisted they were the "best damn thing" for a hard day. She resolved to try it, at least once. She ordered a small bag online, then promptly forgot about them.

The package found its way to her door on a rainy, miserable day. She was stuck at home, running a fever, and battling the world's worst cold (at least, in her opinion). When she opened the box to reveal the brown and white labeled candies, she grimaced, stuffed them into a random kitchen cupboard, and forgot again.

Later that day, as her sinuses cleared and her fever receded, she ambled into the kitchen for a cuppa. As she opened the cupboard, her eyes landed on the bag of Tootsie Rolls. She lifted an eyebrow at the drab packaging, the oddly-shaped niblets, and nearly pushed them aside. But she decided,  _ what the hell _ , and she opened the bag, twisted the paper wrapping, and popped the unfortunate-looking morsel into her mouth.

And nearly spat it back out.

It wasn't...  _ bad _ ... really, it wasn't. But the waxy texture took her aback, and it honestly tasted nothing like the chocolate she was used to. It was too sweet, too strange, too bloody difficult to chew! With some effort, she managed to gulp down the remains.  _ No, thank you _ , she said silently, and walked away, forgetting them once again.

The following morning, she felt well enough to return to work. She cheerfully went about her routine, stopping in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat, and saw the bag. Her nose wrinkled, and she eyed the bin across the room, but guilt over such wastefulness ate at her. She resolved to take them to work and offer them to one of the new interns. At least one of them had to be stupid or curious enough to try them.

It turned out that not one of the interns, or any of her colleagues, had the slightest interest in the American candies. Frustrated, Molly toted the bag of sweets back to the lab. She set it on the table beside the microscope, scowled at the label, then went back to her work.

Hours passed, samples came and went, no dead bodies to examine (a blessing, yes, but still a bit disappointing, as that was the most interesting part of her job). By the end of her shift, she was more than ready to make her way back home. Just as she backed away from the microscope, the door swung open, revealing (who else?) Sherlock Holmes.

"Ah, Molly, good!" he breezed past her. "Got a few samples I need to look at, do you mind?" He asked the question as he took the seat she'd just vacated.

Molly rolled her eyes. "No, it's fine," she muttered, and moved to the office to collect her things. On her way out, she was stopped by his voice.

"Interesting choice, by the way."

"Sorry?" she frowned, facing him.

He held up the forgotten (again) bag, his eyes never leaving the microscope. "American sweets. You bought them online out of curiosity. Not the sort of thing I would imagine you enjoying."

Molly had long ago grown accustomed to Sherlock's deductions, and so, without batting an eyelash, replied, "You're right. Not my taste. Not  _ anyone's _ taste, apparently. I brought them to see if someone wouldn't mind taking them off my hands, but, well..." She gestured to the bag, shrugging one shoulder.

"Hmm," was his only response.

Rolling her eyes again, Molly shifted her handbag and turned toward the door. "I'm sure you won't eat them, since you're working, but if you fancy, I dunno, experimenting on them--"

"I rather like them, actually."

Molly whirled around in surprise. "You... you've tried them?"

"Helped a young girl from Philadelphia find her lost cat. Dull case, solved it in ten minutes via text, could've done it in five if she'd had a camera phone, but I digress. As a token of her gratitude, she sent a large bag of her favorite candy." He held up the sweets again, this time looking right at her, cocking one eyebrow.

Molly fought a grin. "She wouldn't leave you alone until you'd tried them, would she?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched in what could either be annoyance or amusement. Probably both, actually. "No, she wouldn't. Still, I liked them."

She shook her head, laughing quietly. "Well, you're welcome to them. As I said, not my taste."

"How many did you eat?"

Molly frowned. "Erm... one. That was enough."

Sherlock eyed her with that raised eyebrow again. "Oh, Molly, surely you of all people know that one test in an experiment is  _ never _ sufficient. It takes multiple studies to form a concrete theory, or opinion, as the case may be." He stood abruptly, fished out one of the small rolls, and held it out to her. "Try again."

"What?" she sputtered through a laugh, then a sickening thought chased away all humor. "Sherlock Holmes, if you've been  _ using _ \--"

He shook his head once, silencing the rest of her threat. It was rather empty, anyway. Looking closer, she could see he was perfectly clean. "Try. Again."

She gaped at him. "Why?"

One corner of his mouth ticked upward. "For science."

_ He's finally gone mad _ , she grumbled internally, but for some reason, she found herself humoring him. She unwrapped the candy and moved to put it in her mouth--

“Wait.”

His hand shot out and stopped her. Molly blinked rapidly. "What--you--Sherlock, would you make up your bloody mind?!"

He studied the small candy for a moment, then met her eyes again. "I could see your intent. You were about to pop it in, chew as quickly as possible, and swallow it before the flavor really had any time to register. Am I wrong?"

"For God's sake, this is ridiculous!"

"Science, Molly."

Her eyes were going to get stuck if she kept rolling them like this. "Fine, yes, you're right."

"And you nearly wasted a perfectly good Tootsie Roll."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" she countered. "I thought you had samples to look at."

"This takes precedence."

Molly screwed up her face in utter bewilderment. She truly did not understand how his mind worked. Nonetheless, he clearly wasn't letting this go. With a groan, she relented, "Okay, Sherlock, what would you have me do instead?"

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then, in a move she did not expect, he swiped the Tootsie Roll, opened his mouth and ate the damned thing himself.

"Really?" she deadpanned. "Oh, yes, that's very helpf-- _ mmph! _ "

Her sentence was cut off by a pair of lips capturing hers. A very soft pair of lips.  _ Sherlock's _ lips. Her mind raced with confusion and uncertainty, and she made to push him away and demand answers... only to feel his tongue dart out to taste her mouth, and in the process, giving her a taste of his. And her brain promptly short-circuited, and she succumbed most willingly.

_ Lord _ , but he was good at this! His lips pulled and kneaded hers expertly, and his tongue challenged hers to a sensual sort of duel, a challenge she was only too happy to accept. His hands snaked around her waist, drawing her nearer, holding her tighter. Her own fingers fisted around the fabric of his shirt--the black one, not the purple one,  _ thank heavens _ \--and she angled her head, giving them both better access. She dimly registered the sweet, sticky flavor of the catalyst for this rather enjoyable turn of events, but was far too preoccupied by the ministrations of his wicked mouth to care.

Too soon for her liking, he ended the kiss, eyeing her with a satisfied smirk, even as he fought to control his own breathing. "Well?"

Molly slowly blinked once, twice, then frowned up at him. "S-sorry?"

His smirk grew. "What are your thoughts on your second  _ tasting? _ "

God, the way he said  _ tasting _ was enough to set her blood on fire. But as the haze cleared, she regained her wits, and took a moment to think about what just happened.

Sherlock had kissed her. He'd willingly, eagerly, connected his mouth to hers, and judging by his darkened eyes and labored breaths, she wasn't the only one that enjoyed it. Nor, it seemed, was she the only one wanting  _ more _ .

Feigning uncertainty, Molly stepped away and scooped up the bag. "Hmm, I'm not sure," she purred. "I do believe a few more tests are required." She paused a moment, letting that sink in, and inwardly squealed at the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly. Then, with a saucy grin, she asked, "Yours or mine?"

Later that night, wrapped up in his arms and the warm, sweet afterglow, Molly decided she rather liked Tootsie Rolls.


End file.
